Seeing Is Believing
by Snowflake Flower
Summary: Orihime couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There they were, wrapped around each other in pure, utter relief. White Sode no Shirayuki and black Zangetsu, they were like Ying and Yang. IchiRuki and onesided IchiHime


**Seeing Is Believing**

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Orihime couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Rukia, _Rukia_, was reaching out and crying into Ichigo's shoulder, her tears making tracks down her face. She was clutching his black haori, one of her fists beating his chest in anger and gratitude. They were both bloody and injured, Ichigo more than Rukia. Zangetsu lay on the floor beside Ichigo, his black blade shimmering in the sunlight that shined on the both of them. Rukia's own pure white zanpakuto, Sode no Shirayuki, lay beside his, also glinting brightly in the sunlight. Their wielders were wrapped tightly around each other, Rukia lifting her head up to stare into his eyes.

And Orihime couldn't believe it.

When she had first looked at Ichigo's hollow mask, a spike of fear had stabbed through her body, shocking her and rendering her immobile. She had seen his hollow mask and his hollow eyes before Rukia ever had, and yet during the gruesome battle the female shinigami had not shown any indication she was horrified at all. When Orihime first met Ichigo's eyes, she looked away because she was terrified of the black sclera and yellow iris, seeming to stare straight into her very soul.

But here she stood, watching the very scene of Rukia meeting Ichigo's eyes for the first time. And she just couldn't believe it.

Rukia, her eyes the colour of a blue-violet, held his gaze with unwavering confidence and love. Even as her face was inches from his hollow mask, Rukia did nothing but smile at Ichigo, her hand reaching out to touch the white and red veil that covered his face. She didn't expel Ichigo's hollow powers at first; instead she traced her fingers along the theatrical-like mask, in awe at the detail.

"What are you doing?" Orihime heard Ichigo ask her. She smiled softly at him, her fingers never pausing or hesitating in their exploration.

"I'm memorizing every part of you." Rukia replied, finally stopping. With a delicate swipe of her hand, the Kuchiki turned the solid mask intangible, letting it disappear into the wind. And even as the hollow mask faded, Ichigo's hollow eyes remained for a few minutes. Orihime wanted to look away, but knowing that Rukia would still be staring into his eyes made her stand her ground.

And the orange-haired girl watched them, his hands slowly clenching into fists beneath her long sleeves. Rukia still stared into his eyes, that look of love and courage prominent on her face. Ichigo stared back, a little unnerved that she wasn't flinching at his hollow eyes. But soon, the sclera of his eyes became white again, and his iris faded in colour to their original amber.

Orihime watched, Rukia's expression never changing in the slightest. Her hands rested on his cheeks, not minding the blood that stained her porcelain white fingers. Rather, she reached down to grab Ichigo's hand, forcing him to place it on hers. Rukia smiled, sighing in content as her eyes closed and she bathed in the warmth his hand generated. She didn't mind the blood on his hand marring the perfect skin of her cheek, didn't mind that his hand contained the powers of a hollow.

No, "mind" would not be the appropriate word, Orihime thought.

Rukia just didn't care. She didn't care that Ichigo was part hollow, that a part of him thirsted for blood and battle, and that he would forever be bathed in the sins of blood.

Because she loved every single part of him. She accepted his courage, his bravery, and all the things that made him good. She accepted his recklessness, his hollow, and all the bad things about him. Rukia would never turn a blind eye to any part of him; never deny that a part of him ever existed. Instead, she would look at them with the same certainty she had looked at them now.

Ichigo smiled at Rukia, taking his hand off her cheek and bending down to rest his forehead against hers. Rukia smiled up at him, her mouth moving to form three distinct syllables. Ichigo just laughed, his mouth moving to form four syllables that were similar to her three. And with surprising gentleness, Ichigo gathered Rukia in his arms and held her closer, his face inching ever closer to hers.

Orihime turned away, deciding she had watched enough, heard enough, realized enough, and endured enough. And she couldn't stand to stay there and watch any more. It was because Orihime now knew. She knew why _she _wasn't the one nestled in Ichigo's arms. Rukia had accepted every part of Ichigo, and even more than that? She understood him. But that wasn't why the teenage girl lost out to the century-old shinigami.

As the orange-haired girl walked away, she smiled bitterly.

Orihime would always love Ichigo more, but Ichigo would always love Rukia more.

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A/N Wow! Two fics in one day, I'm so proud of myself! Well, this little number was written today and took an hour to write. I'm surprisingly really fond of sad fics, lol. Right, so this was inspired when I read chapter 282 of the manga. Granted, I read some of the latest chapters but I'm mostly clueless about anything from the Soul Society arc, up. You can go ahead and spoil it for me though, I doubt I have the patience to read/watch all the latest stuff, lol.

So on that note, please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!

Snowflake Flower


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